


Leash

by DrMinty



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Female Yagami Light, God what the hell did I write, One-Sided Attraction, Ryuk (Death Note) Is a little shit, did not look over This LMFAOOOO, hunny if ur seeing this ur doing great n ily, i don’t know what to tag thus, i have to leave so uhhh yeah, i was encouraged by a friend so here we are, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25517500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrMinty/pseuds/DrMinty
Summary: She didn’t know what she was doing.This - this wasn’t for her benefit, the shinigami, ryuk has made it clear he was on neither’s side. He was in it for a show, for entertainment because he was bored. He found the world disgusting as she did - something she enjoyed in a quiet part of her. But they weren’t friends.  business partners if you wanted to put a label on it.They were owner and pet in a way.
Relationships: Ryuk & Yagami Light, Ryuk/Yagami Light
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Leash

She didn’t know what she was doing.

This - this wasn’t for her _benefit,_ the shinigami, _ryuk_ has made it clear he was on neither’s side. He was in it for a show, for entertainment because he was _bored._ He found the world disgusting as she did - something she enjoyed in a quiet part of her. But they weren’t _friends._ business partners if you wanted to put a label on it.

They were owner and pet in a way.

The only question was which one held the leash.

He wasn’t attractive, he was annoying, a fly that buzzed in her ears constantly. She almost wished she could write _his_ name in the book.

But alas, you could not kill a God of Death.

So, she tosses the apple up in the air, it slaps against her palm quietly. She’s waiting for ryuk to show up, he typically likes to wander off and explore. 

It’s not hard to know when he’s there when she’s not engrossed in her “work” he carries the scent of deep woodlands and.. well.

_Death._

There’s no particular scent that comes to mind when explaining it, the scent is just what it gives off. Death.

Now is one of those times when she’s engrossed in the notebook, hand unendingly writing down names as the radio speaks to her. 

She only jumps out of her trance at the feel of _cold_ \- cold is what he feels like, like he’s not even alive which is fitting for a deity of death. - and _long_ sharp claws scrape against her skin _(she ignores the goosebumps that crawl through her body that she desperately wants to shed like a snake - because that’s what she is, she is the snake that picked the Apple for humanity no matter how much she convinces herself she is the one that made them from her breath and their ribs - )_

Despite his skin _(if you could call it that)_ being cold his claws leave a trail of _hot,_ andblack marks stretching across her skin that she always growls and wipes off, she doesn’t understand how they produce ash but he only laughs and lays down like a lounging cat.

She was sure if he had a tail it’d flick like a cats.

This time is different though.

This time his grip is _slow_ ruby eyes flicker from her pale arms to the Apple to her face the entirety of the time. Like he’s testing some kind of waters.

The Apple is out of her hands, the soot rests in its place like always, like a routine for them.

She turns back to the notebook after wiping it off with the well placed tissues she bought just for _that_ reason when she hears him shuffle behind her - it sounds like he’s getting close, very close and -

And now his head rest between her shoulder blade and the crook of her neck.

And she's frozen.

“You’re overworking yourself.” He says it calmly, his arm laps underneath her own that is held up by her desk to bring the Apple to sharp teeth. Some of the juice runs out of his mouth and lands on her clothes.

She can only scrunch her nose.

“Don’t you think?” He rumbled, the sound of the Apple is _annoying_ and now her back is _cold_ by the way he presses closer whilst crouching but she can’t help the burble of heat in her stomach at the low husk in his voice.

What is she _doing._

He laughs silently to himself, like he knows what he’s doing. Like it’s a game she plays with L.

“When” her voice has a chip “I become the god of the new world, do you think there will be such a thing as _overworking?”_

He hums lightly.

The Apple is now gone.

“ _If”_ her fingers curl around the pencil, it groans under her grip. _If_ as not _when_ it’s _if_

She really wishes she could kill him.

“If,” he repeats the forsaken word “you become the God or Goddess whichever you prefer. I’ll sure feel sorry for this world because being a God isn’t what it’s all made out to be. In fact - its really really shitty.”

“Maybe in your world”

“Maybe in this one too”

The words are spoken quietly, she almost thinks it’s a threat if it weren’t for the way her thighs clench together just a bit more and her skin flushers hotter.

He laughs, and pulls away.

It’s a game.

And she lost.

  
  
  
  


She wonders if he’s really the one who holds the leash.


End file.
